


Projects and Rejects

by darwinwithadifference



Series: ScarletWidow fics [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Awesome Carol Danvers, Bisexual Natasha Romanov, Carol Danvers & Wanda Maximoff Friendship, Carol Danvers - Freeform, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Deaf Clint Barton, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Jealous Natasha Romanov, Jewish Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanov Steals Clint's Jerseys, Natasha and Wanda both have Gay Panics, Panic Attacks, Protective Carol Danvers, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Wanda Maximoff, Single Parent James Barnes, Teenage Natasha Romanov, Teenage Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanov - Freeform, Wanda isn't sure of her sexuality but she's figuring it out, single parent steve rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 06:32:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 14,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19740181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darwinwithadifference/pseuds/darwinwithadifference
Summary: Wanda and Natasha have to partner up to complete a history project. In addition to learning history, Wanda learns to accept herself and trust people; Natasha learns to accept a new (girl)friend. Fluff and romance ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Marvel AU i've done. I don't want to make this a drawn-out fic, but it's going to be quite a few chapters at least. Idk i generally write one-shots but i've been writing a lot lately and wanted to try my hand at a longer work

Wanda always sat at a desk against a wall. She didn’t dare sit at the front of the class, where a teacher might call on her, and she wasn’t nearly popular or cool enough to sit at the back of the classroom. So she stuck to the sides and hoped that nobody would see her.

This strategy worked, most of the time. Most of her teachers had come to terms with the fact that while she may know the answer, she wasn’t about to raise her hand and say it. Most of her classmates had come to terms with the fact that she was shy, awkward, and undeniably a bit weird.

Her AP World History teacher, Miss Carter, was aware of all these things. She knew a lot more than her students gave her credit for, such as the fact that Natasha Romanov was capable of a lot more than she halfheartedly turned in.

Wanda wasn’t looking forward to having to partner up for their new project, but she was reasonably sure that Miss Carter wouldn’t pair her with anyone likely to bully her. Until she checked the list of pairs on Miss Carter’s door and saw _N. Romanov_ next to _W. Maximoff-Rogers._

She was so screwed.

Steve took one look at Wanda’s expression when she trudged into their apartment and knew that his daughter was either furious or terrified. Knowing Wanda, the latter was more likely.

“Wanda? Come on, I’m making tea,” he called after hearing her shut her door.

It opened again. She sat down at the kitchen counter and accepted a mug from her father.

“How was your day?” He asked. He knew that tenth grade hadn’t been easy on Wanda. He wanted to help.

“Okay. I got partnered with a girl I’ve never dared to speak to for my history project, so that’s great,” she replied morosely.

Steve nudged her elbow with his as he took a seat next to her. “Maybe you’ll become friends. Try to see the bright side.”

She gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll try.”

…

“Come on, Nat,” Clint begged. “Don’t leave me alone with Tony. You know how difficult it is for me to refrain from actually hurting him.”

She shook her head, fiery curls bouncing as they walked out the school gates. “As impressed as I am by your knowledge of the word ‘refrain’, I have too much shit to do this evening to act as a buffer in this ridiculous race you idiots have planned. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Natasha thought she heard him cuss her out under his breath, but she decided to let him get away with it. She had homework and a history project partner to contact.

Bucky wasn’t done with his shift when she got home, but her adoptive father had left stew on low heat on the stovetop for her. She dished up a plateful and sat down cross-legged on the floor of their living room. Her muscles were still sore from yesterday’s ballet rehearsal and she needed to stretch them out.

Nat hadn’t ever spoken to Wanda Maximoff-Rogers, but she knew the quiet girl from some of her classes. It was easy enough to find her number on a class chat group, save her contact and send a text: _Hey Wanda. It’s Natasha from AP history. Should we meet up after school tomorrow to work out how we’re going to do this project?_

By the time Wanda replied, Bucky had returned from his shift, changed out of his nurse’s scrubs, and sat down next to Natasha on the floor to watch a nature documentary. She didn’t really care about the Alps, but adding her own voiceovers to the narrator’s and feeling her dad’s laugh in his chest was making her smile.

She glanced at her phone and saw Wanda’s reply: _Hi. Sure; I’ll wait for you outside Carter’s class._

Smiling, Nat read the text again. _Who the hell uses a semicolon in a message? This should be interesting._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I going to project my social anxiety onto Wanda? Yes i am.  
> Also - I'm South African so i have no idea what Americans do in history beyond what is in books and series, and i still don't fully understand how classes work, so sorry for any inaccuracies.

If Wanda hadn’t already known that she and Natasha were completely different, she would have realised it as her partner sauntered up to the classroom door: Wanda was tall and slim, Natasha was short and made of lean muscle; Wanda was quiet and kept her head ducked down, Natasha strolled along with confidence and a smirk on her face; Wanda wore skirts and dresses with cardigans and simple black pumps or boots, Natasha wore ripped jeans, jackets, and a scruffy pair of red sneakers.

“Hey.”

Wanda gave a small wave. “Sorry you got stuck with me for this.”

Natasha frowned and shook her head, short hair bouncing with the movement. “Don’t be.” She smiled and shrugged. “I’d rather be with someone who actually works than with one of my dumbass friends.”

 _Do I laugh? Would it be rude? Why are people so hard?_ Wanda registered that Natasha had said something else, but it took her a second to realise that she expected an answer.

“Sorry; I drifted off. What did you say?” She winced.

The redhead smiled. “Let’s go get coffee and see when we both have time to meet and work on the project. We can divide the essays up from there.”

Wanda nodded. “Good plan.”

They made their way through the emptying hallway. A few people greeted Natasha, and she nodded and smiled at them all. Wanda felt even more like an outsider: she’d been at this school for six months and she didn’t know that these people were in her grade.

“Do you want to split it up so that one of us does pros, the other does cons and we collaborate on our conclusion?” Wanda asked, sipping her tea and setting her backpack down on the table as they took their seats.

“Good plan. Which would you rather do?” She was a little surprised by how focused Natasha had become as they discussed schoolwork, and was delighted to realise that Nat was a lot smarter than she liked to act in class.

“I’ll do cons if that’s okay,” Wanda replied.

Nat nodded and began breaking off pieces of the muffin she’d bought with her coffee. “How about you draw up a page where we can list the points we’ll use and how we can connect them.”

Wanda got out her pen and notepad and wrote _History project planning_ along the top of a fresh page. Then she put down _America’s role in WW2 – good or bad?_ and divided the page in half.

After finishing her muffin (in record time), Natasha cracked her knuckles. “Let’s get this shit done.”

Wanda kept her hands balled up in the pockets of her thick cardigan while she walked; it was heading towards sunset and she was freezing. She berated herself for not wearing tights with her skirt as her socks slipped down and exposed her legs to the chilly air.

She’d enjoyed the couple of hours she’d spent talking with Natasha. They’d compared points and sites for research and started to structure their essays, and it hadn’t been too awkward. Once Wanda could talk about a topic she was interested in, she knew she became less shy and was generally better at interacting with people. That that topic had turned out to be recent world history, and the conversation with a particular redhead that everyone was a little bit terrified of, was a little bit unbelievable. But she didn’t have friends at school, and Nat was quite nice underneath the smirk and haughty posture.

Maybe her dad was right and she would finally have someone her own age to talk to again. A friend could never compare with the bond she’d lost – _don’t go there now come on it’s been a good day keep smiling keep walking think about the future –_ but it would be nice to have someone to laugh with and go out with.

Bucky popped his head out of his bedroom doorway as Natasha closed the front door and threw her backpack on the couch.

“I missed you this afternoon. Where did you say you were again?”

She rolled her eyes at his absentmindedness, but reasoned that he was pretty busy so she couldn’t blame him. “Having coffee with the girl I’m doing my history project with.”

“Oh, right. How was it? It isn’t one of the usual gang?” Bucky asked as he entered the kitchen and ruffled her hair.

Natasha grabbed his hand and pretended to twist it up against his back. He chuckled and tapped out.

“No, it isn’t. I’m the only one of us that does AP History – I’m pretty sure Ms Carter would throw Clint, Tony and Sam out of the room within five minutes,” she replied.

Her father shook his head. “I can believe that.”

“Her name’s Wanda,” Natasha found herself saying. “She’s new and really quiet, but we work together well.” _We do, don’t we? I wonder if I should invite her to sit with us at lunch – she always sits alone._

_I think I will. She’s so much less annoying than Clint and the others._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm being vague in this chapter, but bear with me - the next chapter will resolve it.

“Wanda!” Natasha’s voice caught her offguard as she packed her English books away.

“Hey,” she smiled, hoping she hadn’t scared Wanda too much. The taller girl smiled a bit, so she continued, “Come sit with me and my friends at lunch? It’d do them good to have some sensible company.”

Wanda considered. She didn’t _like_ sitting alone at lunch, and she liked talking to Natasha, but her friends who were probably as confident and knew her even less? _Would she have asked if she didn’t want me there? Is this pity?_ Even if it was pity for the weird, sad girl who barely spoke, she decided it was better than another lunch alone. “Okay.”

Natasha gestured for her to lead the way out of the classroom, then assumed a position slightly in front of Wanda as they began navigating the hallways. Wanda wasn’t sure if she did it on purpose, but she doubted that Natasha Romanov did much by accident. And being able to follow did make her feel safer, in a way. A memory flashed through her thoughts of a blonde boy laughing, tugging her along behind him as they ran. She had to take a deep breath to bring herself back.

“The boys might be a little overbearing at first, but they’re all great once they get over themselves,” Natasha said as they approached a half-full table. “Sit next to me and they won’t give you too much hell.”

Wanda cautiously sat down at Natasha’s side, across from three guys.

“Sam, Clint, Tony: this is Wanda. She’s my history project partner,” Nat said. “Wanda, meet some of the boys.”

Wanda said hi to each of them in turn: Sam, who simply nodded and smiled; Clint, who wore hearing aids and was a year older than the others; and Tony, who made an innuendo in the first few seconds of meeting her that earned him a kick in the shin from Natasha.

The conversation turned to which teacher was most likely to have committed a murder and got away with it. It seemed to be a discussion that came up often, judging by Tony and Nat’s detailed analyses of Mr Banner and Ms Carter respectively. Wanda listened with some amusement, and was a little surprised when Clint and Sam seemed to find her statement that Ms Carter was probably a spy (“Obviously as a history teacher she needs to know a lot, but her explanations of Cold War policies are suspiciously detailed”) a worthy argument.

By the end of lunch, Tony had ungraciously lost the debate (“I don’t care if you and Mr Banner talk about highly advanced weaponry, Tony, it doesn’t prove a thing”) and Wanda was smiling.

“You can come sit with us anytime, Wanda,” Clint said as they left. Sam and Tony had nodded. Natasha had winked at Wanda and left for French.

Wanda got home and immediately pulled out her guitar. She needed to focus on something other than the exhaustion of interacting with more people than she was used to, and the nagging thought that he would have gotten on well with Clint.

She soon found herself playing a lullabye she couldn’t remember not knowing; she’d been playing it since she started guitar as a child and listening to it long before that – both hearing and playing it brought back memories of hot chocolate and pillow forts, and of her mother showing her how to hold her guitar and make it play pretty sounds.

Some tears fell onto her fingers, making them slip on the strings. A dischord sounded and Wanda winced. She set the instrument aside and turned her attention to the picture frames on her dresser: in one, four people sat on a couch, wearing Christmas hats. They’d always celebrated both Hannukah and Christmas, and Wanda could remember getting them confused as a child.

In the other, a younger Wanda had her arms around the blonde boy who was still flitting around her thoughts. _You’d be proud of me, Pietro. I think I’m starting to make friends. Even though friends can’t begin to make up for how much I wish you were here._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing from my own experiences with flashbacks, car crashes and panic attacks - here's your trigger warning!

She’d carried on playing guitar after having dinner with her dad and doing her homework. He’d looked concerned when she was even quieter than usual, but Wanda didn’t have the energy to explain that while she’d actually had a good day, missing Pietro was making her limbs heavy and her thoughts slow.

So she’d played until she felt the sting from steel strings through her calluses. And now as she sat in Physics, Wanda dug her nail into the sore spots on each fingertip: a habit she’d never been able to get rid of.

_I really should be paying attention,_ Wanda mused. Mr Banner was talking about calculating forces in systems where collisions take place, and it was interesting but she also really didn’t want to think about collisions of any kind but before she could move her gaze from the projector screen there was a simulation of a car crash and her chest was tight she couldn’t breathe –

It took her the rest of the period (once she’d woken up in the nurse’s room) to convince the school nurse that yes, it had been a panic attack, but no, she didn’t need to go home, and she’d be fine to go back to class for the last two lessons.

Luckily, her next class was History. Wanda settled down into her desk, still feeling shaky, but starting to be able to take in the sounds and images around her and not the ones in her head. And Ms Carter was a good teacher, and she enjoyed this subject. _Just focus on the lesson._

Natasha grinned at her as she walked by to get to her seat. Wanda tried to smile feebly back, but she didn’t think she’d succeeded.

“Alright, everyone,” Ms Carter looked around the room. “Today we’re talking about how improved technology impacted the course of the Cold War.”

Wanda couldn’t follow the lesson. She was so, so tired.

“Wanda!” She jolted upright, aware that she’d probably just closed her eyes and almost dozed off.

She tried to apologise, but she could feel tears welling up and her throat was closing all over again.

Her classmates were staring at her, the weird girl who was about to lose it because she had been called on.

Miss Carter looked concerned, so Wanda jerkily stood up and pointed at the door. She nodded, so Wanda walked as quickly as she could out of the classroom and down the hall to the bathrooms.

As soon as she was in a stall, Wanda slid down onto the ground. She was panting and choking and crying, and all she could hear and see were screams and crying and smashing glass and Pietro throwing himself in front of her but a moment later he was limp in her lap and covered in blood –

“Wanda?” Natasha’s voice. Wanda couldn’t quiet her sobs if she tried, so she didn’t bother.

“Wanda, please open the door.” She could see Natasha’s red sneakers from under the stall door. She reached up, hand twitching because her muscles were all seized up, and unlocked the door.

Natasha was immediately kneeling next to her, brushing hair out of Wanda’s face, asking “Can I hug you?” and pulling Wanda against her.

“I’ve got you, Wanda, it’s okay. You’re safe here, I’ve got you.” Nat could feel Wanda’s chest heaving and tears soaking into her hoodie as she wept. She kept her arms firmly around Wanda’s waist and rubbed her back.

Eventually, Wanda’s heaving sobs quieted to shaky breaths and whines. Natasha reached behind her, tugged some toilet paper down, and lifted Wanda’s head so she could wipe her eyes and nose.

“You’re not going back to class,” she told her. “I’m going to get our stuff, you’re going to wash your face and try to breathe, and then I’m going to walk you home.”

After Wanda nodded, Nat helped her stand and then jogged out of the bathroom back to Ms Carter’s class. She quietly explained Wanda’s state to her teacher and then packed up her and Wanda’s backpacks. She fetched a slightly calmer-looking Wanda from the bathroom and started to lead her down the hall towards the side doors.

“Thank – thank you,” Wanda sniffled as they left the school property.

Natasha took her hand so they could stay close while they walked. “It’s all right. My dad gets panic attacks sometimes; I couldn’t do nothing once I noticed how upset you were.”

“Sorry I’m being such a bother.”

“You’re not. I want to help, okay? If you need a friend, you call me,” she replied. They headed towards the subway and managed to find seats together on the right train.

Wanda didn’t say much else as Natasha accompanied her back to her apartment. She was exhausted and embarrassed and frankly just wanted to climb into bed.

Once they were inside, Natasha fixed Wanda with a gentle but firm look. “Go rest. I’d offer to keep you company and talk if I could, but I have a ballet lesson in an hour. Text me this evening to tell me how you’re doing, okay?”

“Okay. Can I have another hug?” Wanda found herself asking. Natasha obliged her, smiling, and then walked towards the front door. She said goodbye and then was gone. Wanda locked up behind her, dragged her quilt to the couch, put on a documentary, and then settled down to doze.

_Hi Natasha. Thank you again for helping me today. I’m feeling a bit better. I don’t think I’ll come to school tomorrow, but I’d still like to work on the project in the afternoon like we’d planned if that’s fine._

_Hey, no problem. Hope you have a quiet day tomorrow_ _♥_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nat wants to help and Wanda feels awkward, but they're figuring it out

“What are you worried about?” Clint asked Natasha as they walked to school together the following morning.

She didn’t reply immediately, but when Clint gave her his big-protective-brother face, she gave in. “Wanda had a panic attack yesterday in class. I’m seeing her this afternoon, but I still want to know that she’s okay now.”

“I’m guessing you helped her when she had the attack,” he observed.

Natasha nodded. “How could I not? We both know how shit they are. She’s so quiet and sweet I can’t help but want to hug her and make the world give her a break. I have a feeling she’s been through a lot.”

Clint hummed in reply. “What classes do you have with her? Nerd ones?”

She rolled her eyes. _Nerd classes_ was Clint’s term for AP classes – he had no time for academics beyond what he absolutely had to do to pass. “Yes, Clint, _nerd ones._ ”

“I leave it to you over-achievers. I’ll take my nice, normal pass.”

“Clint, the only reason you’re still in school is because Nick would kick your ass if you dropped out,” Nat replied, naming Clint’s guardian.

He agreed jovially, and they strolled through the school doors.

Wanda was very glad that her dad was two different kinds of therapist, because he phoned the school to tell them that Wanda wouldn’t be coming in (and they couldn’t argue with him), and then made her pancakes for breakfast.

“I have a few appointments this morning and running into the afternoon,” Steve said. “I don’t think I’ll be back before you leave.”

“That’s okay. I am feeling better today,” Wanda told him, having noted the concerned-father look he’d given her a moment earlier.

He nodded. “I’m glad. Sure you don’t want to come to the gym with me this morning?” She could see the joking spark in his blue eyes.

“Dad, as much as I am proud that you can provide physical and psychological therapy to disadvantaged kids, and it’s very noble of you, you know how I feel about exercise.” She sipped her tea.

He chuckled. “No more than absolutely necessary. I know.”

Steve left soon after, leaving Wanda to try to focus on homework she hadn’t done yesterday. She succeeded only marginally.

Wanda was both excited and apprehensive to meet Natasha. On the one hand, she liked working with her; on the other, she’d been a total mess yesterday and felt like she needed to apologise, because _who breaks down in the middle of class and then just vanishes? Oh right; Wanda, because she’s fucking weird._

Her phone buzzed. Text from Natasha: _around the corner_

She looked up and saw the petite redhead walking towards her. Nat smiled at her. “Hey. Let’s get started.”

They worked without touching upon the subject of Wanda’s mental state for so long that Wanda thought that she might get away with not speaking about it at all, but Natasha shot her hopes down when she put down her pen and said, “I think we made good progress for today. How are you doing, by the way?”

Wanda sighed. “Physically I’m recovered. Mentally, it’ll take me another day or two to go fully back to the closest thing I have to normal.”

“How often do you have panic attacks?” Natasha asked, juniper eyes focused on Wanda. It made her drop her gaze and fiddle with her rings.

“Not that often anymore. Just when something causes a flashback,” she answered.

Natasha nodded. “Have you spoken to someone about whatever it is that happened?”

“My dad’s a therapist; I didn’t have a choice.” Wanda gave a crooked smile.

Another nod, and this time a duck of the head so she could meet Wanda’s eyes again for a moment. “If you ever want to talk to anyone else, you can talk to me.”

Wanda blinked. “Thank you; I really do appreciate the offer, but…”

“But?”

“Why? I’m just a weird loner who never dared to speak to you before I was partnered with you for our project,” Wanda blurted, mumbling the last part.

Nat grinned a bit. “So you wanted to speak to me?”

_Oh you idiot. You absolute incompetent. Why did you say that._ The nicer part of Wanda’s mind chipped in: _She’s been nice, and she’s pretty, and she’s always seemed interesting. You were given an opportunity to speak to her, so use it._

She shut down her internal (screaming) monologue when Natasha laughed. “I’m teasing. But to answer your question, I didn’t have a great early childhood. Someone helped me get past that and learn to deal with what upset me, and I think you might need that too.”

“Oh,” was all that Wanda could say.

“You looked like you needed a friend. I’d like to be one, if you’ll let me.” Nat started to pack her books away, so Wanda followed suit.

“I’d like to have a friend,” she said softly, smiling.

The redhead stood. “Come on, I’ll walk you home. We can pretend to be normal and talk about ‘friend stuff’.” The air quotes she made had Wanda laughing as they left.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long to upload! My wifi here at uni has been awful. Hopefully i'll be able to update more frequently from now on.

There was still music winding its way through Natasha’s head when she arrived home to see Bucky huddled in a corner of the couch, scrolling listlessly through shows on TV.

“Bucky?” She asked, moving into his line of sight. She knew he still sometimes had nightmares and flashbacks from his tour in the Middle East, and when he did it was important not to startle him.

“Come here, dearest,” he responded in Russian, smiling tiredly.

“Just putting my things down and changing,” she said in the same language. She was lucky to have been adopted by someone who also spoke her mother tongue. They rarely spoke it now that she was older, but whenever Bucky was upset he would revert to it.

Natasha settled down next to him on the couch, stretching her legs out and resting her head on his right shoulder. “I made a new friend,” she told him.

“Hmm?” He asked. They were now watching some quiz show that neither of them were very interested by, but the background noise was comforting.

“My history project partner, Wanda. She doesn’t talk to people at school, but I like talking to her. She had a panic attack the other day and I tried to help. I think she needs to get out of her head more,” Natasha mused.

She felt her father nod. “That’s good of you, Nat. I hope she feels better.”

“Me too,” she answered.

Wanda was having a nightmare.

The plot was always the same: Pietro was ahead of her, calling for her to go back to where it was safe, but she kept trying to reach him, because he _was_ where she felt safe. But with a crash, something blocked her way, and she would wake up crying for her brother who would never lie with and comfort her again.

Wanda never saw her mother in dreams and rarely had flashbacks involving her. She missed her too much to express, but Pietro had been by her side since they were born twelve minutes apart, and it was his passing that had sent her down into a numb, dark place for months after the accident.

She checked her phone – just past one in the morning. But there was a text from Natasha, delivered five minutes ago: _Sorry for the timing – hopefully you’ll see this tomorrow morning. My ballet lesson has been moved to earlier in the afternoon. Could we work on history in the evening?_

She may as well answer; she wouldn’t be falling asleep any time soon. _Okay. If we work at my place, you can stay for dinner if you’d like?_

It didn’t take long for Natasha to reply. _Why are you awake?!_

_Nightmare. Why are_ you _awake?_

_Homework that I didn’t do this evening when I should have… Are you sure you don’t mind us working at your apartment?_

_Yeah it’s fine. I think my dad will just be glad I’m actually socialising_

_Okay then I’ll see you tomorrow in English and message you when I’m on my way over?_

Wanda sent a thumbs-up emoji, and nearly dropped her phone on her face when she saw Natasha’s reply: _I need sleep – try to go back to bed and just chill_ _♥_

She tried, but even though her blankets and pillow were soft and comforting, she couldn’t close her eyes for very long. She kept seeing Pietro. She propped her phone up on a pillow next to her, found some satisfying compilation video, and stared at it until she drifted off again.

Natasha really hoped that Wanda was okay.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay we're starting to get some character and plot development here! Bear with me for a couple more chapters of setting things up, which i can hopefully write this week.

As it turned out, Steve was more than happy for Wanda to have a friend over for dinner and chatted amicably to Natasha throughout the meal. She answered politely and easily – Wanda noted that she often manipulated the conversation with enough skill that her dad didn’t notice, which was impressive.

Afterwards, Wanda and Natasha went back to her room to pack up the mess they’d left: notebooks, pieces of paper, highlighters and pens strewn on the desk and bed.

“Is this your whole family?” Nat asked from where she had been looking at the photos on Wanda’s dresser.

“Yeah,” she replied quietly. “My mom, dad, me and my brother.”

Her friend nodded and smiled. “It’s a lovely photo.”

“Thanks.” Wanda sat down on her bed and looked up at the redhead. “Last year, my mom and brother and I got into a car accident.” Natasha moved to sit next to her and watched her closely, worry in her expression. “I was the only survivor.”

She watched her face fall. “Oh, god, Wanda. I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

“That’s why I changed schools. I couldn’t stand people asking where Pietro was,” Wanda continued. “We… we were twins and it was like I died too. He was always the one who made me braver and now I can barely speak to people.” She sniffed.

Natasha held out her arms. Wanda moved closer and let herself be held. She wasn’t crying, exactly, but she felt fragile and scared.

After a while, Nat took her by the shoulders and looked at her seriously. “I meant what I said about you talking to me if you need to. And if you’re scared to speak to people or do something, come find me and I’ll help if I can.”

Wanda nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Thank you for telling me. Are you going to come sit with me at lunch tomorrow? The boys keep asking about you,” Nat replied, winking.

“Okay.”

Clint was, as usual, getting on Natasha’s nerves. Sat at the dining table in his small apartment, he was idly scrunching up small balls of paper to throw into her cup of coffee. And he didn’t miss.

“Stop it before I stab you,” she growled, brandishing a pen.

He stuck out his tongue at her and rolled another ball. “How’s Wanda?”

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “Where’s the concern coming from?”

“Well you seem to care about her, so I figured I’d ask,” he replied with a smirk.

“Clint. Now is not the time to be a little shit,” she snapped. “I have work to do, which you are preventing.”

He sighed. “Fine. Do you like her or not?”

She glared at him. “Possibly.” When Clint flicked his wrist back to throw another piece of paper at her, she gave in. “Yes, okay, I do.”

“Ha! I knew it.” He grinned. “Are you going to do anything about it?”

Natasha let him stew for a minute as she jotted down an answer for her French homework. “I don’t know. I first have to figure out if she even likes girls.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage, Secret Agent Romanoff,” Clint teased. She rolled her eyes but smiled.

She was quiet for a moment before saying, “She hasn’t had it easy. I don’t want to push her; she deserves to feel safe.”

“From what you’ve said, I think she trusts you,” he answered.

Natasha nodded. Clint reached over and ruffled her hair. With a little noise of exasperation, she threw her pen at him and gave chase as he jumped up and sprinted for the kitchen.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this took so long! Uni has been really busy this week.

“You’re more confident lately, huh?” Steve asked Wanda that Saturday.

She hoisted a grocery bag onto her shoulder and followed him out of the store. “I guess.”

“I’m glad you made friends with Natasha. You said you’ve been hanging out at school?” He opened the door of their apartment building and followed his daughter up the stairs.

Wanda nodded. “Her friend Clint is also really nice. The others don’t seem to mind me either.”

He smiled. “That’s great, Wanda. I’m very glad you’re interacting with people a bit more.”

“I told Natasha about Mom and Pietro.”

“Oh?” _She’s never told anyone about that._

She shrugged. “She saw me have a panic attack and still wanted to be friends with me. I thought she should be aware of it.”

“I’m proud of you for making that decision.” Steve grinned and gave her a one-armed hug while they packed groceries away. “How about we have Natasha and her parents for dinner this coming Friday?”

Wanda nodded. “I’ll ask.”

The offer caught Natasha off-guard when Wanda asked her while they worked on the finishing touches of their project on Tuesday afternoon. “Can I check with my dad and get back to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure. No pressure.” Wanda sipped her tea.

Just then, Natasha’s phone buzzed. She picked it up, glanced at the screen and rolled her eyes. “Tony’s been hacking the school’s system again. He’s now freaking out because a new student’s just been enrolled and it looks like she’s – and I quote – “Mechanically inclined and as scary as Nat”.”

Wanda giggled. “Sounds like a handful.”

“Hmm. I think so. He wants us to meet tomorrow morning so we can find her,” Nat replied. “You should come with; I guarantee it’ll be amusing.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “What’s her name?”

“Carol Danvers.”

Wanda had decided that she liked Clint. Could he be chaotic? Yes. Did he tease her lightly on occasion? Absolutely. Did he occasionally feel like her big brother? Slightly. But enough that she felt safe with him – Natasha had told her that he had a soft spot for outcasts, which was how she had met him. He’d apparently looked after her in the foster home they’d shared when they were little, before they were both adopted. Wanda still couldn’t envision Natasha needing to be looked after.

“Wanda, why are you hiding behind Clint?” Tony demanded. The diminutive genius was getting antsy; it was almost time for the bell to ring and there was no sign of Carol Danvers at the gates.

“Probably because your ego is giving us all a headache,” Clint quipped.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Careful, old man.”

Clint flipped him the bird and got an elbow from Natasha for his troubles. “Sam just spotted her – I’m going to go talk to her.”

“Take Wanda with you – she’s less intimidating than us idiots,” Sam suggested with a wink.

Natasha grabbed Wanda’s hand and approached the tall blonde striding towards the main entrance.

Carol Danvers stopped and raised an eyebrow as Natasha sauntered into her path, a bemused Wanda behind her. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Natasha and that’s Wanda. Is it your first day?” Nat asked in the most innocent tone Wanda had ever heard her use.

With a suspicious look, she replied, “Yeah. I’m a sophomore. Carol Danvers.”

The redhead graced Carol with one of her charming smiles. “We’re also sophomores. Need some help finding your way around?”

Carol looked past Natasha and made eye contact with Wanda, who quickly looked at the ground, fiddling with her cardigan sleeves. “Wanda, right?”

She nodded and looked up again.

“Are you being held against your will or is this little club –ˮ she motioned at Natasha and the boys standing some steps away “– fortunate enough to be graced with a sane member?”

“They’re my friends,” Wanda answered, turning to smile quickly at Nat.

Carol grinned. “Let me guess: they adopted you.”

Wanda nodded again.

“Well, Wanda, if you vouch for them, they can’t be too bad,” Carol said with a joking spark in her warm brown eyes. “Where do you sit at lunch?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this before the week gets busy - hopefully I'll have more by the end of the week. Hope you like it!

“Nat, could you help me with my jacket, please?” Bucky called a few minutes before they had to leave to have dinner with Wanda and Steve.

She darted out of her room and held Bucky’s jacket up for him so he could slide his arms in (an injury from his military days; he had limited mobility in his left arm). “This warrants the good shirt, does it?” She asked playfully.

Her adoptive father rolled his eyes at her. “Yes, it does, you little antagonist.”

Natasha kissed his cheek and grinned. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m sure. Have I seen that sweater before?” He asked, motioning to the cream-coloured knitted sweater Nat had paired with leggings and combat boots.

“Probably not. I stole it from Clint,” she replied nonchalantly as she checked her phone. “Ready?”

“Yep. After you, Miss Romanov.”

Wanda had been on edge all afternoon. Well, she’d been on edge since lunch, when Carol had promptly informed Tony that he “should really be less self-aggrandizing”.

Tony’s retort had been that he’d been told it suited him by several of his ex-girlfriends. Carol’s had been that he was evidently compensating.

Natasha and Clint had nearly wept, laughing so hard that Clint had almost lost his hearing aid when he’d let his forehead drop onto his folded arms. Sam and Wanda had decided not to get involved.

Wanda still wasn’t sure what to make of Carol, but as soon as she heard a knock on their door, her heart rate was far more concerned with the upcoming dinner.

“I’ll get it,” she said to Steve, who had looked up from the carrots he was chopping.

She tugged at the waistband of her jeans as she walked towards the door (she didn’t often wear jeans, but this was an unusual occasion so she’d deemed them appropriate, along with a tank top and one of her favourite cardigans).

“Hey,” Natasha greeted as Wanda opened the door. She gave her a hug and moved to the side. “This is my dad.”

“I’m James. It’s nice to meet you, Wanda.” The dark-haired man looked nothing like Nat, but his smile was gentle and he shook her hand firmly. _He seems nice._ She mumbled a response and quickly led them inside, just as Steve appeared from behind the kitchen counter.

And stopped dead in his tracks.

Nat and Wanda both looked up at their fathers, confused. The two men were staring at each other. Bucky looked more startled than Natasha had ever seen him, and Steve’s expression of disbelief reminded Wanda of one of the worst days of their lives.

“Steve –ˮ

“Buck –ˮ

And then they were hugging each other and Steve was laughing incredulously and Bucky was smiling wide. Natasha looked at Wanda and shrugged. Wanda just blinked – she was at a complete loss.

Bucky was the first to regain his faculty of speech. “Nat, do you remember me telling you stories of my best friend I grew up and trained with, and lost contact with after I got sent home?”

“Yes,” Nat said, realising what was happening.

Wanda tapped Natasha’s shoulder. “I’m lost,” she fake-whispered, earning a chuckle from Steve.

“I lost contact with Bucky when our units were separated in an attack,” Wanda’s father explained. “I was too scared to look for him in case I found a grave instead.”

Natasha’s dad – Wanda had no idea if she was supposed to call him James or Bucky – shook his head. “You can’t lose me that easily, Steve. End of the line isn’t here yet.”

The men grinned and embraced again.

“How long is the food gonna be?” Nat asked Wanda as they left their fathers to catch up and headed to the kitchen.

Wanda shrugged. “It shouldn’t be long. Should we tell them or leave them to talk about the ‘good old days’?”

“I heard that,” Steve called indignantly. “Put the veggies in the oven and make us some coffee so long, please, Wanda.”

With Wanda directing, she and Natasha took care of setting up the table and finishing the preparations. Neither of them wanted to begrudge their father a minute of catching up, especially when Natasha heard their voices drop and sensed that the conversation had become more serious.

“Hey, you still haven’t played guitar for me,” she said, trying to steer Wanda away from the living room.

If Wanda realised, she didn’t let on. They headed to her room, discussing Natasha’s sweater, which Wanda really liked.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I desperately wanted to write Nat having a Gay Panic, so i threw a little bit of it in here (it will get progressively better, or worse. you decide). I also wanted to update because next week will be crazy and i might not get to post for a while.

Wanda hated PE. She wasn’t athletic; that had always been Pietro’s thing. She was too scared of people to play team sports, and she was too scared of hurting herself if she participated fully.

But, she’d discovered, Sam was in her class, and now so was Carol. As soon as the lithe blonde emerged from the changing rooms and, spotting Wanda, walked towards her, it was apparent that Carol definitely did not hate PE.

“Hey, Wanda. Nice to have a familiar face around.” Carol smiled and gave her a side-hug.

Wanda smiled in return and huddled further into her Nike hoodie (Pietro had always let her borrow it if she got cold, and it was the one clothing item she’d begged her dad to let her keep. He’d relented, and now whenever Wanda was particularly scared, she instinctively shrugged it on).

Carol looked at her thoughtfully. “You look like you’re about to go in front of a firing squad.”

“I feel like it,” she replied. “I hate PE.”

“I can’t say I understand, but let me know if you need some help. I need to return the favour,” Carol said, referring to the day last week she’d forgotten her algebra homework and had copied Wanda’s.

_Maybe today won’t be as hell-like as it normally is. At least if we have to partner up, I won’t have to stand on my own. Unless Carol would rather go with someone who can actually catch a ball. She probably would; who would willingly go with me? Everyone knows how much I suck._

They started off by jogging twice around the athletics track. Wanda sighed and reluctantly sped up. She could see Sam far ahead, and Carol.

“And she actually partnered with me,” Wanda told Natasha in English.

Natasha smiled; Wanda was making friends, and she was happy for her. The taller girl was also really cute when she was excited or happy, which Nat never minded experiencing. Solemn blue eyes and a rosebud mouth twitched into a seemingly-surprised smile… Natasha knew she was in trouble. Even _Clint_ knew she was in trouble.

She doubted that Wanda Maximoff-Rogers had any idea.

But Carol Danvers did seem to have an idea. _Obviously I’m glad she’s making friends. But Carol is the most obviously not-straight individual. And I still don’t even know if Wanda is straight._

_What if Carol asks Wanda out before I do? She seems the type to do some crazy shit like that._

_Oh God what if Wanda says yes?_

Wanda watched Natasha slowly lose focus with amusement. The redhead’s green eyes glittered in a way that would have scared Wanda a month ago, but now told her that someone else was in for it. She was scowling as she wrote, and only frowned more deeply when she stopped writing like a clockwork toy that needs to be rewound.

“Natasha,” she said softly, prodding her friend with her pen.

Nat jumped and instinctively grabbed Wanda’s wrist. Wanda stifled a yelp, which brought Natasha back to the real world of their English class, where Mr Coulson was giving them a cautionary glare.

“Sorry; reflex action,” she murmured. “You okay?”

Wanda nodded, relaxing. To be fair, she wouldn’t have reacted much better to someone poking her. “Good reflexes.”

She shrugged. “Ballet will do that for you. I mean, so will mixed martial arts training, but let’s give some credit to the dancing.”

“I can see you doing mixed martial arts, but I still have a hard time picturing you in a tutu,” Wanda teased, giggling.

Natasha looked insulted. “I look pretty fucking good in a tutu, thank you very much. You should come watch one of my studio’s open evenings one time and you’ll see that I’m right.”

“I’d love to,” Wanda replied (to Natasha’s surprise and internal panic).

The bell rang, so they packed their things. “We have one in two weeks – I’ll send you the details later,” Nat said as they started to walk to lunch.

“Please tell me it’s a pink tutu.” Wanda sounded so conversational that she almost didn’t register what she’d said. When she did, she fake-punched Wanda’s arm.

Natasha decided that Wanda laughing was one of the best sounds in the world.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would have uploaded this yesterday, but my laptop crashed and I lost most of this chapter. I've rewritten it as exactly as I could and I think it's turned out okay. I took my own feelings out on Wanda in this one, but she'll be okay next chapter, I promise.

She should have known it wouldn’t last; ‘it’ being going more than a week without a panic attack.

So now she was huddled on the floor of a bathroom (again), shivering and in physical pain, because something inside her had been taken away and never healed after he died.

The lunch bell rang, and she winced. The thought of being around other people was too much. Better just to stay in the bathroom cubicle and stare at the tiles on the wall.

“Nat, stop looking around. You’re stressing me out.” Clint’s comment brought her attention back to their table from where it had been focused on the cafeteria doors.

“Sorry,” she replied. He looked disapproving and went back to his sandwich.

Carol, wearing her signature bomber jacket, plopped down next to Nat. “Where’s Wanda?”

“Excellent question,” Natasha muttered, pulling her phone from her pocket. _Hey. Where are you?_

Wanda replied in a few seconds. _Bathroom._

_You stuck in a cubicle or something? Lunch is half-over._

_I don’t want to be around people._

_Wanda, are you okay?_

_No?_

_I’m coming to you. Which bathroom?_

After seeing Wanda’s reply, Nat returned her phone to her pocket, slung her backpack over her shoulder and stood, conjuring a smirk and an amused tone of voice. “Wanda’s got herself stuck in the bathroom. I’m gonna go save the day.”

Chuckles from Clint, Tony and Sam, and a baffled look from Carol. “I have to see this for myself.”

Natasha let Carol walk with her out of the cafeteria. Once they were in the hallway, the redhead explained quietly, “She’s not stuck, but I think she might be having a panic attack, so I didn’t want to say anything to the boys.”

“Oh,” Carol said, brown eyes softening. “Can I come with to check she’s okay? I’ll leave if she doesn’t want me there.”

She agreed and they made their way to the bathroom near Ms Carter’s class. Upon entering, there were a couple of other girls standing by the mirror, but the force of a glare from both Carol and Natasha was enough to send them on their way.

Natasha spotted the bottom of Wanda’s satchel from under a stall door and moved closer. Carol stayed back, leaning on the bathroom door so no one could get in.

“Wanda? Can you open the door for me?” She called.

The lock clicked, so she pushed the door open and sidled in.

Wanda sat on the toilet seat, knees under her chin and hair shielding her face. Her fingers were wrapped in the laces of her boots, cutting off some circulation. She was shaking.

Natasha knelt next to her and started to disentangle Wanda’s fingers and her bootlaces, keeping hold of one of her hands when she was done. “Look at me, please, Wanda.”

Cornflower-blue eyes glossy with tears met hers. She rested her chin on her knees, so that Natasha could see her face: spots of pink on her cheeks, a runny nose and a quivering lip. She looked so young and forlorn that Natasha physically hurt.

“Carol’s here too because she wanted to know that you were okay. She’s at the door, so we’re alone in here. You’re safe,” she explained.

A nod from Wanda.

“What’s wrong, hm?” Natasha brushed some hair away from Wanda’s face and handed her a wad of toilet paper so she could blow her nose.

Her reply was too soft for Nat to hear and she hid her face again. Her fingers squeezed Natasha’s hand.

“Hey, come on. You need to look at me so we can figure out what’s wrong and how to help you. Okay?”

“I miss him,” Wanda whispered.

She heard the bathroom door open slightly and Carol snap something. The blonde really was like a guard dog sometimes – terrifying to everyone except those she cared about. She smiled slightly at the thought, and then focused back on Wanda. “I know you do. Is it just worse today or did something trigger it?”

“Just worse.”

“Okay. Do you want a hug?” When she nodded, Natasha helped her stand and pulled her into a tight hug, rubbing her back. “I know it’s difficult to think now, but I need to know if you want to go home or not.”

Wanda shook her head.

Quickly, Nat mentally ran through Wanda’s and her own timetables. “We’ve got three more classes now after lunch. I’m with you for the last two, but do you know anyone in the next period?”

“I’ve got Physics with her,” Carol called from the door.

“So you’ll have us with you until you go home, and then you’ve got your dad. Do you think you can manage with our help?” The redhead asked, looking up so she could meet Wanda’s slightly less teary eyes.

“I think so,” she mumbled.

With some relief, Natasha nodded. “Let’s wash your face and calm down a bit, and then you and Carol can start walking to Physics. Does that sound good?”

After Wanda agreed, Carol came over to the cubicle and gave her a huge bear-hug. If ever Natasha had hated how much smaller than the other two girls she was, it was now. She concentrated on helping Wanda clean up so she didn’t think about how Wanda and Carol, both willowy and the same height, would make a very attractive couple.

“Alright, Maximoff. Your bodyguards are at the ready,” Carol said with a grin.

Wanda laughed a little. She looked calmer, even if she was still struggling with eye contact and had her shoulders hunched. Little steps.

“I’ll see you soon, Wanda. You can do this.” Natasha gave her one last hug before she and Carol headed off down the hall. She was relieved that Wanda wouldn’t be alone in her next class, and relieved that Carol would take care of her.

But she couldn’t help wishing she was the one brushing shoulders with Wanda as they walked.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some free time this evening and I've been wanting to write this scene for a while - things are going to get interesting from here! I can't wait to carry on writing this, even if I'll probably take a little while to upload again.

Natasha was very glad that she didn’t have to wear a pink tutu tonight. Wanda would never let her forget it, and Clint may actually die of laughter.

“Are you nervous?” Bucky asked while they ate an early dinner.

She shrugged. “Not because of the dancing. But Wanda’s coming to watch.”

Her adoptive father grinned at her. “I hear you talking about Wanda a lot lately,” he said slyly.

“She’s my friend. I can talk about her if I want to,” Natasha replied indignantly.

Bucky chuckled. “Are you ready to go once we’re done eating?”

“Just need to do my hair and makeup.” Natasha made short work of the stir fry on her plate after that, and went back to her room to tame her fiery curls into a neat bun and re-apply her makeup: she didn’t wear a lot to school everyday, and stage makeup was always so exaggerated. But Natasha enjoyed the process, and how she could reinvent herself with some powders and brushes.

After making sure she looked as intimidating as possible, and that she had everything she needed in her backpack, Natasha returned to the living area and took the opportunity to braid some of Bucky’s hair back from his face.

“I’m so lucky that my daughter takes such an interest in my grooming,” he commented.

“Maybe I should teach you how to use eyeliner,” she joked. “There. I was tempted to do an elaborate bun, but I had to do that to myself and I don’t have the energy to do it again.”

They collected their things and headed out of the apartment. Natasha grinned to herself – there were few things she enjoyed more than getting ready for a show.

Wanda was very glad that Clint had offered to pick her up on his way to Natasha’s dance studio. Not just because she didn’t have to travel alone.

“How long has Natasha done ballet for? She did tell me, but I don’t remember.” (She did.)

Clint kept his hands in his pockets as they entered the small theatre space. “Since she was four. She’d always wanted to dance when we were little, and she’d gone to some classes at the community centre before Bucky adopted her.”

She nodded. “I’m glad I could come watch – it’ll be nice to not see scary Nat.”

Clint snorted. “Depends on the piece they’re doing. Although I think anyone who can focus for that long and be that precise scares me.”

Wanda giggled. He shot her a smile and bumped her shoulder. “You’re a good friend, kid. I’m glad Nat adopted you.”

Maria Hill was one of the only people on Earth that Natasha listened to without questioning. Her instructor was strict, exact, and demanding, and Natasha respected the hell out of her for it. And was also a little scared of her (not that she’d ever tell anyone).

“Places, girls. You know your cue,” she called, striding backstage so she could watch from the wings. Natasha and the twenty-eight others performing this piece – a Russian piece that had delighted Nat, partly because she loved a challenge and partly because she got to translate Russian for Miss Hill – quickly fell into their rows. The curtains began to ascend, and she heard the first notes from the piano. Then she moved.

Wanda watched Nat move with fascination: to her, she’d never been prettier. The bun that showed off her jawline and neck; her black leotard and skirt which made her seem impossibly pale; the determination on her features and the graceful confidence with which she moved. _Is she actually perfect? She may literally be perfect._

Wanda had never been interested in dancing, but she could see how much Natasha was enjoying herself – her little smirk gave it away. She wondered what it was like to move with absolute surety in your abilities, and to be certain of everything that was meant to happen next. 

The piece they performed was discordant and harsh, and it ended with half the dancers immediately tumbling to the floor and the other half slowly sinking down, like dust settling after a fight. Wanda saw Natasha’s leg tremble as she sank, but she held her position until the curtain closed on a wave of applause.

Clint and Wanda met Natasha in the foyer. Bucky had greeted them and gone to stand a little way off, observing the other people in the room. Clint explained that he normally gave Nat some time to chat with any of her friends who had come to watch or also danced before they left.

“Hey, guys.” Nat smiled tiredly at them. “How was it?”

“Awful,” Clint said immediately, earning himself a punch to the stomach and a snapped _“Little shit_ ” in response.

“It was really good – you were amazing,” Wanda cut in before the friends could get into a proper fight in the middle of a dance studio.

Natasha smiled even wider and gave her a hug. “Thanks. And thanks for coming.” As she moved back, she stumbled and winced. Wanda grabbed her arm to steady her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I think I might have hurt my ankle a bit, but nothing serious-ˮ She paused as Wanda gave her a concerned (but stern, which was what threw her – since when was Wanda stern?) look.

Clint said nothing as Wanda proceeded to tell Nat to sit down so she could check her ankle. He admired her for even trying to order Natasha Romanov around, and he admired her more for succeeding.

“So it hurts there?” Wanda questioned, Natasha’s stockinged foot in her hand and a very confused-looking Natasha above her. “Should just be a sprain, but I’d wrap and elevate it anyway. I’ll know tomorrow if you haven’t.”

Bemused, Natasha agreed to keep Wanda informed of the steps she was going to have to take for her ankle. Clint barely held back his laughter at Wanda’s serious expression – he’d never seen her be so commanding, and he found the whole situation pretty adorable: the fearless and confident Natasha made silent and co-operative by the shy, soft-spoken Wanda.

“Hey, Clint; Wanda. Nat, we should get home.” Bucky had made his way over to them.

Clint and Wanda followed Bucky and Nat out of the building and said goodbye as they got into a cab. Then they started walking back to Wanda’s apartment.

“She’s a really good dancer,” Wanda said conversationally.

He nodded in agreement, and decided to see if she’d rise to some bait. “She is. And she looks like a real badass in her ballet outfit.”

“She does. We had a conversation about how she looked in a tutu last week, and I’m going to have to cede this point to her,” the brunette replied.

“I’m guessing she told you she looked amazing?” Clint asked, thinking how typical it would be of Natasha. She got very defensive over her dancing.

Wanda nodded.

“So you agree?” He asked, glancing at her under a streetlamp.

She ducked her head. “She does," she said frankly. "She’s beautiful when she dances.”

“Has someone got a little crush on Natasha Romanov?” Clint teased.

Wanda elbowed him lightly and kept her eyes on her feet. “Possibly?”

He grinned. _I’ve got two lovestruck girls who are too scared to admit their feelings on my hands. This is going to be fun._ “Okay, Wanda – this stays between you and me…”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a bit carried away with this one... hope you enjoy the longer chapter; unfortunately it's just a once-off and i'll be back to shorter chapters next week. I just really didn't want to do my assignment lol

Natasha had surprised herself by listening to Wanda’s instructions: obviously, she would have rested and treated her ankle by herself, but she wouldn’t have looked after it ~~properly~~ to this extent if her solemn friend hadn’t given her a concerned look with those blue eyes. She cursed herself for loving Wanda’s eyes so much.

She had to stop herself from scratching at the kinetic tape applied to her ankle. She settled for retying the laces of her red sneakers while half-listening to her French teacher.

Now that their history project was over, Natasha missed spending afternoons with Wanda. They still met up to work sometimes, but Natasha was starting to suspect that her ‘little’ crush was headed towards her falling for this girl. _What the hell has become of me._

Clint, of course, picked up on her musings as they walked home. “So you know I walked Wanda home last week after we watched you dance,” he began.

“Yes,” she said warily.

“Well, we were chatting about you.”

Only Clint’s exceptional peripheral vision saved him from the smack aimed at his head. “Get to it, Barton.”

“She likes you back.”

Whatever the hell Natasha had been expecting, it wasn’t that. She stayed silent for several moments while she thought that sentence through, prompting Clint to speak again.

“Nat? You still present?”

She nodded, frowning. “She likes me back.” _Well if that isn’t the best sentence that I’ve ever said._ She started to smile, and looked up at Clint. “She actually likes me back?”

He grinned at her, giving her a side-hug in that big-brother way he’d always done. “Yup.”

“Wait. How the fuck did that come up in conversation?!” She demanded. When Clint went to turn down his road, she tugged him back. “Coffee at my place. No arguments.”

Snickering, he followed her. “I was seeing if I could get her to admit anything, and it worked.”

“Oh shit this means that she knows I like her,” Natasha said, groaning. “Now what do I do? ‘Hey, Wanda, Clint told me we like each other. Are we dating now?’”.

Luckily, Bucky wasn’t home when Nat and Clint took over the kitchen – she going to make coffee, he going to make a sandwich.

“Calm down, kid. I’ve got a plan.” Natasha knew that this would be interesting.

“Wanda!” Carol called brightly.

It never ceased to amaze her that anyone could be so cheerful when their first period was PE. Then again, Carol never ceased to amaze her in general. She didn’t think even Natasha was as stubborn as Carol. And the chaotic energy the lanky girl carried with her was more than a match for Tony’s (which, before Carol’s arrival, had given Wanda numerous headaches).

“Morning,” she greeted quietly from her usual spot at the edge of the field.

“I’ve been chatting to Clint, who seems to think that you have a crush on someone in the group,” she said in a teasing tone, grinning.

Wanda felt her cheeks heat up and refused to make eye contact with Carol. “Yeah.”

“It’s Natasha, isn’t it?”

 _Now_ she made eye contact. “How did you know?” _Don’t laugh at me I know she’s out of my league I know this is useless –_

“Wanda, I’m gay. I could tell.” Carol winked at her. She rolled her eyes as Mr Odinsson cheerfully informed them that they would be running laps. “Come on, let’s jog slowly and talk about this.”

“Do we have to?” Wanda muttered as she reluctantly removed her hands from her hoodie pockets.

Her friend chuckled and informed her that they did.

It was a relief to explain the whole situation to someone: Carol listened patiently as Wanda spoke about noticing the redhead in classes but being far too shy to talk to her, meeting for their history project, realising that Natasha was kind and a bit of a nerd, and realising that she was a lot more attracted to her friend than she’d originally thought.

By the time she was done talking, PE was over and they were walking to Physics. 

“Clint told you that she likes you back, right?” Carol asked, elbowing some random guy who’d tried to shove past them in the hallway without a second glance.

Wanda tried (and failed) to hide her smile. “Yeah. Not that I can wrap my head around it.”

“You don’t have to. All you have to do is come with me after school, because we’re setting you two up.”

A spark of fright went through Wanda, setting her hands trembling and her heart racing. “What?”

Carol’s mischievous grin gentled. “We’ll be there too, silly. But Clint and I agree that you guys should give it a shot, and I think it would help you be a bit more confident.”

“Okay,” Wanda found herself saying.

It had been a long day for Natasha. She’d had to re-tape her ankle and now it itched again; she hadn’t seen Wanda at all outside of English; she _had_ seen Wanda and Carol walking together deep in conversation in between classes; and Clint was being annoying, as usual.

“Seems to me she likes Carol more,” she grumbled as she and Clint watched the two girls approach the coffee shop through the window.

“Nat, shut up,” Clint replied calmly. “You’re grumpy. Have a little faith.”

She rolled her eyes, but listened.

Carol gave a broad smile as she spotted them. Wanda, walking just behind her, was more tentative. Even if Natasha was grumpy, she couldn’t not smile back at the brunette.

To give herself some time to think, she announced, “I’ll go order for us.” Carol wanted a chococcino, Clint wanted his usual Americano, and Wanda wanted hot chocolate. It was such a cute request that Natasha couldn’t even be annoyed when she stood to offer to help carry their drinks.

“How was your day?” Wanda asked softly while they stood in the queue.

“Long and tiring,” she answered honestly. “I didn’t see much of you.”

The taller girl shrugged and huddled further into her sweater. “Carol had to convince me to come with you guys.”

“How come?”

_How do I explain without being rude?_ Wanda thought frantically. _How do I explain that the thought of telling you to your face that I like you is making it hard to breathe?_

“I’m nervous,” she ended up saying.

Wanda could feel Natasha studying her, but before she could reply, it was their turn to order. Natasha did so smoothly. While they waited to collect their order, Nat replied, “So am I.”

She blinked. “But you’re always so confident.”

“I’m a good actor, Wanda,” she replied. They collected the four drinks and headed back to where their friends were sitting.

“Thanks, girls. Clint, shall we be off?” Carol took her cup from Natasha, as did Clint.

Their friends promptly got up and walked over to a table almost hidden from sight. Wanda looked at Natasha incredulously.

“I’m guessing you also weren’t informed of that part of the plan?” Natasha asked, starting to laugh.

Wanda shook her head, giggling. She set their drinks down and they both took a seat.

“I guess it’s pretty obvious what’s going on here,” Nat sighed, grinning crookedly. “The last time I was this nervous was before last year’s ballet exam, so I’m just going to get it over with. I like you.”

 _Is it bad that I want to cry? I can’t believe this._ Wanda took a deep breath and looked right at Natasha, focusing on the steady green of her eyes. “I like you too,” she whispered.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down at it.

**Carol:** _HAVE YOU TWO ADMITTED YOUR FEELINGS YET OR ARE WE SITTING HERE SPYING ON YOU FOR NOTHING?_

She laughed; she couldn’t help it. She passed Nat her phone, which set her off again. She turned in her seat to see Carol waving madly.

Rolling her eyes, she turned back to Wanda. “I guess I should ask if you’re free on Friday night?”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I didn't want to make the chapter too long. I decided to end it there and start writing the next chapter so long so that you guys don't have to wait as long for me to upload the next one.

Wanda was, it turned out, free on Friday night.

Natasha had had the good sense not to try to keep the date a secret: Wanda knew when and where they were going (at seven, to a diner nearby that was open and served breakfast all night long). She just had no idea what to wear.

In despair, she opened her door and called, “Dad?”

“Yes?” Steve appeared in the hallway. She swung the door fully open to let him in and plopped onto her bed still in her dressing gown.

“I don’t know what to wear,” she mumbled.

He smiled and sat down next to her. “You nervous?”

Wanda nodded and worried at her lip. “I know it’s silly, because Natasha’s my friend, but I want to wear something nice, but I’m scared I’m too casual or too formal.”

“Tell you what,” Steve said, hugging her, “Video call that friend of yours, Carol. She’ll be more helpful than your old man.”

She smiled. “Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

Carol picked up almost immediately. “Hey! What’s up?”

“I was going to greet you and then I realised that those are tree branches in the background.” Carol’s hair was messy and all Wanda could see behind her was leaves.

She shrugged. “I was bored. I climbed the tree in my back yard.”

Laughing and already feeling a bit calmer, Wanda continued, “I don’t know what to wear for my and Nat’s date.” _It’s a date. I said ‘my’ and ‘date’ in the same sentence._

“Hmm.” Carol looked thoughtful. “Show me some outfits you’ve been considering – you always look adorable so one of them has got to work.”

Wanda ducked her head, smiling. She switched the phone camera to face her bed and the various skirts, dresses and pants that were laid out there. “I think I should wear leggings? I don’t wear them a lot, and I know they look nice with my boots.”

“The black ones,” Carol said, nodding. “And tops?”

Wanda turned to her shelves and rooted through the shirts that were definitely not folded enough to make her job easy. “The only two that aren’t wrinkled are a maroon one and a grey one.” She sighed. She finally understood why Steve told her to keep her closet tidy.

“Let me see the maroon one.” After showing Carol, the blonde nodded. “Yup. That one. And what about one of your cardigans?”

Wanda immediately reached for her favourite, an oversized, light grey chunky cardigan. She held it up for Carol’s inspection. “It’s my favourite,” she explained.

At a nod from her friend, Wanda turned the camera around again and smiled. “Thank you.”

Carol grinned back. “You’re welcome. Now go get dressed and tell me how it goes later!”

Natasha walked up the stairs to Wanda’s front door. Bucky had walked her over and left her in the hall with a hug and a murmured “Brave girl” in Russian.

She smoothed down the front of her (Clint’s) sweater and checked that her jeans were still tucked into her ankle boots. _You’ve been hanging out with Wanda for more than a month and now you get nervous?_

She answered herself, _I didn’t think I’d actually go out with her!_

_Come on. You’ve done far more difficult things than knock on a door._

Steve answered it and smiled down at her. “Good evening, Natasha.”

“Hi, Steve. How are you?” She stepped into the neat apartment, making small talk with Wanda’s father. She liked Steve; he was frank and had a sense of humour that sometimes shone through his stoic exterior. She was glad that Wanda had such a supportive dad.

“You know where her room is – last I checked she was just doing her makeup,” he said.

Natasha made her way down to the last door and knocked. It swung open, Wanda’s pale face becoming impossibly paler when she saw Natasha. “I wasn’t expecting you yet – I’m not ready,” she squeaked, ducking her head.

Chuckling, Natasha followed her into her room. “It’s fine. I’m a little early.”

“I would have been ready, but my hands are shaky and my eyeliner isn’t co-operating…” Wanda trailed off and sighed.

She already looked lovely. “Do you want some help?” Natasha asked.

Wanda held out the pencil and gave her a despairing look. “Please?”

Chuckling, Natasha moved closer and motioned for Wanda to sit on her bed. “I’m too short for this,” she grumbled, earning a giggle from the brunette. Nat tipped her chin up and began to gently apply the eyeliner.

She’d never had cause to look so closely at Wanda, not that she was complaining. She could see now that there were slight hints of green in her cornflower irises, and that her cheekbones were covered in the faintest freckles. Natasha had to take a deep breath and refocus on what she was doing, because she was very much in danger of getting lost in the intricacies of Wanda’s features.

“There you go,” she said eventually, reluctantly letting go of Wanda’s chin.

“Thank you,” she murmured, blushing. “We can go, I just want to get my bag.”

Once Wanda had her things, they greeted Steve, who wished them a good evening and closed the door, smiling softly.

Wanda’s nerves had fully set in by the time they reached Natasha’s favourite diner. She tried to keep the conversation up, but Natasha picked up on it (like she always did).

“We can always do this another night if you don’t feel up to it,” she offered, green eyes gentle. Wanda knew Natasha would walk her back and wish her a good night, no judgement. But she knew that Natasha would also be nervous – Clint had said as much. He’d also said that she wouldn’t admit it, but if Nat was nervous, she’d smooth her sweater or shirt down, which she had indeed been doing since she had arrived at Wanda’s apartment.

“I’m nervous,” she admitted. “But I want to be here with you.”

A soft, surprised smile. Natasha ran a hand through her fiery curls and held out the other to Wanda. “Let’s go, then, shall we?”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter! I will hopefully be able to upload soon, but I thought I'd let you guys know that we're nearing the end of this fic; a few more chapters at most. Thank you for sticking with me!

Wanda thought to herself that Natasha, when not surrounded by idiots, was a very soft person. She was still assertive, but she smiled more and her voice was higher, as if she let herself relax.

“I can’t come here and not have pancakes,” she admitted once they had their drinks and had turned their attention to the old-fashioned menus on their table.

“My dad makes pancakes for our birthdays. It’s bittersweet now, but they’re really good pancakes,” Wanda replied.

Natasha reached out and squeezed Wanda’s hand. “I can imagine. Their French toast is great, too.”

_She understands the food thing._ She almost had to blink back tears, because she’d never met someone who understood why certain foods now made her sick. Some things just held too many memories of a laughing, happy Pietro for Wanda to stomach – like pancakes more than twice a year.

After ordering pancakes and French toast, Nat checked her phone and made a noise akin to a growl. “I love Clint dearly, but sometimes he really needs to learn to shut up.”

“He’s such an older brother,” Wanda commented. “But I’m grateful to him – we’re here now.”

Nodding, Natasha leaned back. “True. He’s a meddler and doesn’t always follow instructions, but I owe him a lot. And I’m very glad we ended up here.”

“I still can’t believe we are.” Wanda let her fingers drift to the buttons of her favourite cardigan, and start playing with them. “I never thought I’d go out with anyone at high school.”

Nat tipped her head to the side. “With anyone in general or a girl?”

“Both, I guess. I’ve never been interested in boys, so I figured that I was some sort of queer. And I’m just too shy to talk to people,” Wanda explained, laughing slightly.

The redhead smiled back. “Fair enough. I think if I had to label myself I’d probably say I’m bi, but I’ve definitely gone through different phases. I think of attraction more in terms of people than in terms of gender.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Wanda looked up to be confronted with two plates piled high with breakfast foods. Natasha snorted with laughter at her surprise and thanked their waiter.

Their conversation over dinner became lighter, with Natasha telling the story of how she acquired her sweater (“It looked better on me and I don’t think he even noticed for a week”) and Wanda recounting her conversation with Carol earlier that evening. She started to relax.

Natasha set her phone down on her nightstand and switched off her lamp. It was after 10 and she had a ballet lesson tomorrow morning, so she’d figured she’d try to get a decent amount of sleep – she knew that she’d be replaying the evening in her head for a while.

Wanda, in her boots and cardigan and hair done in a messy French braid, had calmed down and allowed her dry sense of humour to shine through, which had delighted Natasha as she hadn’t heard Wanda make a lot of jokes before. It turned out that the pretty brunette could make her laugh harder than she had in a long time.

Smiling, she rolled onto her side and tugged her quilt higher. 

_Wanda turned to Natasha when they reached her apartment. “Thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed spending time with you.”_

_“I did too.” Natasha smiled up at her, for once not minding the height difference. “Should we do this again?”_

_Wanda nodded shyly._

_“We can talk about it on Monday. Good night.” They hugged, and as Nat drew away, she pressed her lips to Wanda’s cheek._

_“Night, Nat,” she replied, now smiling past flushed cheeks._

_Bucky hadn’t been able to get a single word out of her after that._


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second-last chapter! I want to start writing another multi-chapter fic, so I'm going to finish this one off on a fluffy note soon.

“Okay, you put your index finger on that string over there – yes, that one – and move it to the second fret. Below the first stripe,” Wanda instructed.

Natasha did as told, wincing as the steel bit into her finger. Wanda gave her directions for her middle and ring fingers as well. “I don’t think my fingers are made for this,” she grumbled.

Wanda chuckled. “It takes a while. Now strum.” The chord was almost pretty and whole, but one string squeaked and they both started laughing.

“You need to adjust your finger position – have your fingertip close to perpendicular to the neck of the guitar,” she replied, moving Nat’s fingers.

“Ow,” she complained. “Just play your damn guitar and leave me with my lack of musical ability.” She handed off Wanda’s guitar to its still-smiling owner and stuck her tongue out.

Wanda settled her guitar in her lap, crossed legs touching Nat’s, and played a G chord. “If you insist.” The old, soft lullaby she always played crept up on her: she didn’t make sense of what she was playing until her fingers were moving in a pattern so familiar, she often found herself tapping it out on her leg at odd times. Wanda relaxed, bowing her head and closing her eyes.

Natasha watched her with a mixture of fondness and awe in her gaze. When Wanda let her fingers fall from the strings, she leaned forward so their foreheads were touching. She said softly, “That’s beautiful.”

“Thank you. My mom taught it to me when I was a kid,” Wanda replied, smiling. “It’s the most comforting thing in the world to me.” She moved back and looked up at Natasha.

Her gentle blue eyes crept up on Nat again – Wanda’s beauty was soft and quiet, and the song she’d played was the closest thing Natasha could imagine to a melody capturing her shy, gentle, endearing personality. _How did I get this lucky?_ Out loud, she asked, “Wanda?”

“Hmm?” Wanda hummed in response, holding eye contact. It was difficult for her, Nat knew. She was proud that she was comfortable enough around her to be able to do that.

“Can I kiss you?”

Wanda felt shock strike her chest, but she breathed through it. “Yes?” She could feel herself blushing. _Why are you so awkward. Why._

Natasha exhaled, a short laugh. “If it’s too much, that’s fine. I just think you look stunning now, and my mouth didn’t consult with my brain before saying that.”

“You can. And I’m glad your brain didn’t get in the way of that,” Wanda replied.

Natasha took her hands. “You say how fast or slow we go. You know that, right?”

“I do.” Wanda squeezed Nat’s hands. “Are you going to kiss me, or what?”

Rolling her eyes, but smiling, Natasha obliged.

Steve had been persuaded to let Natasha sleep over (“Dad, tomorrow is Sunday. I’ve still got plenty of time to work.”), and they’d ordered pizza. Wanda had, as ever, been amazed by the amount of food Nat could eat in one sitting (“What? I burn a lot of calories. Ballet, martial arts, running – it all adds up, Wanda.”).

Wanda’s laptop was at the foot of her bed, open on a movie that had just been paused by the redhead. Her head rested on Natasha’s shoulder, and Natasha could tell from her breathing that she was asleep.

“Wanda, wake up,” she murmured, nudging her.

The taller girl stirred, blinking sleepily. “What?”

She laughed at Wanda’s bewildered expression. “I’m not sleeping in my jeans – can I borrow a T shirt? If we’re both almost asleep now, I doubt we’ll want to get up later.”

“Mmph. Fine.” Wanda stood and stretched. Opening her closet door, she threw a shirt and pair of pyjama bottoms in Natasha’s general direction. She took out some pyjamas for herself and stumbled to the bathroom to get changed.

Smiling, Natasha tugged Wanda’s shirt over her head and inhaled. Jasmine and linen and something she couldn’t name: definitely Wanda. The shorts were a bit loose around the waist, but she pulled the drawstrings tighter and tied a knot in the bottom of the shirt so that she didn’t look like a kid playing dress-up.

“Why do you look so good in that shirt?” Wanda asked, coming back into her room.

Natasha shrugged. “I look good in everything.”

“You do.” She climbed onto her bed and spread a thick woollen blanket over her sheets. “Come on; I’m cold and tired.”

When Natasha settled next to Wanda, she felt Wanda put a hand on her arm and looked over at her questioningly.

Blue eyes were trained on the blanket. “Pietro and I always used to sleep next to each other; I can’t sleep well without holding onto something or someone.” She glanced up at Natasha. “Would you mind?”

“Of course not. Come here.” Natasha held her arm out, inviting her (girl?)friend closer. Wanda did, shifting so her head was tucked under Natasha’s and her arm lay on top of Natasha’s.

“Is this okay?”

She felt Wanda hum in agreement and settle down.

“Good night, Wanda.” She kissed her forehead and got a flicker of a smile in response. The brunette’s breathing slowed, and Natasha listened to the rhythm for some time before drifting into sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! I really hope this ending is to your liking; I had no idea how to end it and came up with this as I was writing it.

_1874 Rambeau Drive._ The address was right. Wanda looked over to Clint and Natasha for confirmation.

“Tell your brain to shut up; it’s the right house and the right time,” her girlfriend of one month grinned and nudged her up the drive.

“Tell my brain to shut up yourself; it doesn’t listen to me,” she mumbled as she walked, the pair of best friends on either side of her.

Carol opened the door before Wanda could knock. “Saw you from the roof,” she explained, seeing her friend’s shocked expression. “Come on! Sam and Tony are driving me crazy.”

She led them through an untidy living room and kitchen and out into the back yard, where Tony was laying out a selection of brightly coloured water guns. “I understand the dress code now,” Natasha remarked, gesturing to her old T shirt and denim shorts.

“Well, it’s spring, which means it’s almost summer,” Carol replied, running over to the pile of water guns and starting to distribute them. “It’s been far too long since any of us have done this, I think.”

“You’re not wrong,” Clint replied with a mischievous smirk. _He’s going to be annoyingly good at this, isn’t he? Pietro would be._ Wanda started to smile as she realised how she could get the better of Clint, accuracy be damned.

They agreed that they would play girls against boys, that getting hit in the face meant you’re dead, and that they would have five minutes to strategize before the game would start.

“I’ll climb the tree and shoot from above,” Carol suggested, but Nat shook her head.

“Clint’s likely to do that. If you can get up on the roof and make sure he doesn’t get up there as well, that might work,” she answered.

Nodding, Carol continued, “Okay, then I’ll go to the roof. Nat, can we count on you to be our main attacker?”

The diminutive redhead grinned wickedly. “Oh, you most certainly can. What about you, Wanda?”

“Make as if someone shot me within the first minute,” she said, an idea taking shape. “I’ll try to hide and take at least one of the guys by surprise.”

“Go for Tony,” Nat said immediately. “He’s cocky enough to not consider you a threat at all.”

They went over their plan again, and then turned to face their opponents.

“Ready, boys?” Natasha shouted. She was met with yells of agreement.

“Let’s go, then.” In an instant, Natasha was sprinting towards Sam and Tony, Clint was shinning up Carol’s tree, and Carol herself had run around to the side of the house to get onto the roof.

Wanda narrowly missed being hit by Tony, and fell back as though she had. Nat quickly distracted him while she slipped away around the corner. Glancing up, she saw Carol aiming for Sam. Unfortunately, Tony shoved him out the way in time.

After about a minute of listening to the yells of her friends, Wanda crept out from her hiding place and crouched behind a big potted plant. She kept her eyes on Tony, who was running around shouting taunts at Natasha (with no effect: Nat had just gotten Sam and was now running for cover, planning on going for Clint next).

“Stark!” Carol hollered from above Wanda. She caught on to the tactic and waited.

As Carol had intended, Tony turned to the source of the shout. Wanda took that moment to raise her water gun and shoot at him – at the same time he noticed her and fired his own water gun. They both ended up coughing and wiping water from their eyes.

“Two against one, Clint,” Natasha declared while Tony and Wanda joined Sam on the porch steps to watch.

Clint’s frame appeared from behind several branches, aiming his water gun at Nat. Carol scrambled down from her roof and began running around the edge of her yard, eyes still on Clint.

As he bent to get a better shot at Natasha (who he had decided was the bigger threat – in his defence, she generally was), Carol leaped up, grabbed hold of a branch, and shot him right in the eyes.

Natasha and Carol’s cheers were offset by Clint’s irate cursing and laughter from the three casualties.

Later, once they had changed into warmer clothes and devoured an inordinate amount of toasted cheese sandwiches, Carol gathered them on the carpet of the living room and brought out a deck of cards.

“Can we play in teams?” Wanda piped up from where she sat in between Natasha’s legs, head leaned back and resting on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“You don’t know how to play, do you?” Sam asked, shaking his head.

Nat flipped him off and hugged Wanda. “I’ll teach her as we go along.”

A few comments later, Wanda was blushing, Natasha was chuckling, and Clint had been punched twice.

The weight of Wanda leaning against her didn’t bother Natasha; to the contrary, she enjoyed being able to support her. Plus she got to have her arms around Wanda’s waist in order to play – which was fine by her.

Wanda, on her part, was tired but happy. She wished that Pietro could experience these friends and things with her, but she was content to let the feeling of Natasha’s body around her anchor her to the moment.

Without Natasha, she would definitely not be sitting here, or be this happy. But she was, because she did, in fact, have Natasha with her. And she didn’t plan on letting that change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Thank you so much for sticking around and reading this work: it means the world to me that I get to share my writing with people who enjoy it. I'll see you soon in upcoming works ♥


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